


Goodnight, Sleep Tight

by N_Pluto



Series: Worth Every Second [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Insomnia, Nightmares, Platonic Bed Sharing, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Pluto/pseuds/N_Pluto
Summary: When Vanya couldn't sleep, she'd make her way to Five's room to wait out the night.When Five couldn't sleep, he'd stay up thinking of his family. Wishing he could curl up in one of their beds.Even now, they always have each other. What's family for?





	1. Little sorrows sit and weep

All her dreams began in darkness, but the worst ones were the ones that stayed dark the entire time. She didn’t know if anything ever actually happened in them, but the darkness alone was enough to force her back into wakefulness.

She grabbed the flashlight on her nightstand so she could look to see what time it was on her clock: 2:47 am. She'd had another nightmare; it was the third one this week. Something about this one was spectacularly bad, she didn’t know what exactly, but there was no way she would be able to go back to sleep.

Time passed by as she sat curled up on her bed, her heart still pounding and racing away. She didn't want to be alone right now. So she pushed herself off the side of her bed, socked feet hitting the cold, hard floor, and slowly crept out of her room. Poking her head out the door, she carefully pushed it open a little bit more so she could squeeze through. There was a squeaky hinge on it that she worried would wake everyone else. She'd have to ask Mom or Pogo to fix it. 

Standing in the dark hallway was no better than it was in her room, if anything it was worse, so she hurried to find somewhere to go. Luther would tell her to go back to her room and sleep, then he'd tell Dad in the morning. Diego might throw a knife at her if she entered in the middle of the night, not purposely, but as a defense against intruders, which she would be. Allison and her had gotten into a fight earlier this week over Vanya taking her necklace (she hadn't taken it, she'd found it and was going to give it back to her.) Klaus was sick right now and she didn't want to bother him. And she'd gone to Ben’s room two nights ago and she didn't want to be anymore of a burden than she already was. So that only left Five. 

He, like the others, always slept with the door closed; they liked the darkness it offered, she didn't. She stood in front of his door for a minute, trying to work up the courage to knock at it. But as she raised her knuckles against the door, she quickly pulled them away and turned back to her own room. Her escape was cut short.

“Vanya?” The door creaked open wearily and Five’s groggy voice called out to her. She closed her eyes tight and spun around to face him. 

“I'm sorry for waking you.” She quietly squeaked out. This was a mistake, she should've just stayed in her room and waited until morning, she would’ve been fine, she didn’t need to bother the others with her problems. 

“What's wrong?” He sounded concerned. 

“It's nothing.” Inching back to her room, she refused to look him in the eyes. 

“Vanya,” now he sounded more serious, “what's wrong?” There was no way he was going to just let her leave now. 

“It’s stupid.” She assured him. Her small, dark room seemed friendlier now.

“No, it’s not, tell me.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. 

She looked down at her feet, her arms hung awkwardly at her sides. She nervously began picking at the skin of her fingers; a habit Father had reprimanded her for, a weakness. “I had a nightmare.” It was so quiet, that he could barely he what she had said, but he understood nonetheless. 

“Come here.” He opened the door a bit wider, signaling that she should come in. His room was so much bigger than hers, with room for a large desk and bookshelves and it still had plenty of space. She envied that everyone else had such nice rooms. 

Five sat on his bed, patting the place next to him. She walked over, but didn't sit, so he took her hand and pulled her next to him instead. 

“What was it about?” He tried his best to stifle a yawn, and suddenly Vanya remembered how late—early?—it was. 

“I don't remember.” It was the truth, kind of, but he didn't seem to believe her, judging by his expression. “All I know is that it was dark and quiet.” All her bad dreams were dark and quiet. After he didn't say anything for a minute, she added, “I'm sorry. Thank you for listening, I'll go back to my room now.” And she scurried away to the door. 

He looked at her from his spot on the bed, “no, I was just thinking. Would you like to stay here tonight?”

Vanya stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. She felt like a deer in the headlights. She wanted to stay with him, she didn't want to be alone in her room. But she didn't want to be a nuisance. Heart and mind at war it seemed, but her heart won this battle, and she walked back over to where Five was. 

“Thank you,” she began, but Five cut her off.

“Don't thank me, just get in bed.” Their beds weren't really big enough for two people, but he moved over so she would have space. 

Once she got settled and under the covers, he reached over to his side table to turn off his lamp.

“Could you leave it on?” She felt like a baby, asking to sleep in her brother’s bed and with the lights on, but she really didn't want it to be dark. 

He understood her, “yeah.” The lights were left on, and, soon enough, she could hear him snoring lightly. She closed her eyes.

A few blissful hours later, when she woke up, she found that Five was gone and a note was in his place: “I told Mom you weren’t feeling well so you could sleep. She saved some food for you.” She knew it was a lie made up on her behalf, but really, she hadn’t felt this good in a long time.


	2. O the cunning wiles that creep

The first few years or so, the nights were really dark. Even when he slept outside, the debris and dust and smoke polluted the sky and made the stars impossible to see. But as he moved further out from the city and as the wreckage cleared away, the stars began to shine brilliantly. There was no more darkness from there on out.

But even with the light, he was scared of the dark. He was scared of the things he would see when he closed his eyes. Of what he might see when he pushed through the blackness; more bodies? People he knew? People he loved? He’d buried them, but they were there. He saw them. He still sees them.

He remembered when Vanya would knock on his door in the middle of the night, frightened and alone. She used to do it a lot when they were really little, but as they got older, she would suffer alone through those night terrors. What did she see? Darkness. What did she hear? Quiet. His dreams weren’t all that different now. He saw darkness, he heard nothing. But sometimes, something would slip through the darkness and the quiet. His family, covered in rubble, bleeding, dead. He could imagine the screams of agony as everyone died. Did they scream? Did they even notice? He didn’t know—would never know—but the idea haunted him.

Back then, some nights he would wake up too, not because he was afraid, but because he simply couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, he never had been.

Now he was. Now when it was dark, he’d try to keep as much light on as possible. He’d risk using precious battery life to keep his “home” well lit. Delores told him off for it at first, but she understood why he did it, and she didn’t complain much anymore—she just liked her beauty sleep and too much light “disturbed her rest.” 

He shifted the blankets that made up his makeshift bed and reached for a flashlight; he wasn’t going to sleep tonight, he knew that much. Delores looked at him with a sad smile, but she didn’t say anything. Probably for the better, he was either going to start yelling or crying if she tried to talk to him right now. His heart was racing, his head was pounding, and his hands were shaking. It was a bad night.

The stars were so bright out here and the moon was its crowning jewel. Luther always wanted to go to the moon, and, according to Vanya’s book, he did. The feeling was bittersweet. He’d seen a poster of Allison; she’d made it as a star, he always knew she would. Diego tried to become a cop, it didn’t work out from what he read, but that good heart of his always wanted to help. Klaus was in and out of rehab; the aftermath of their father’s work, no doubt. Ben...Ben didn’t live to see the end of the world. Maybe that was better. And Vanya? After a lifetime of being invisible, she made herself seen. He was proud of her.

And himself? He was an arrogant bastard who thought he knew better than everyone else and what did that get him? Eternal damnation in the leftovers of a world abandoned. All he had was Delores and a shitload of problems. All he had was himself, a mannequin, a fear of the dark, and no one to run to. The others came out on top when they died, he thought bitterly.

Tears started to well up in his eyes. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home, and see his family, and say that he was sorry for leaving them. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he couldn’t get the damn equations right. It’s been six years and he’s still trying and failing. 

He wanted to go and knock on somebody’s door and ask if he could stay with them tonight. He wanted to take back every time he told them to leave him alone because now he was completely and utterly alone and he hated it. He wanted to tell them that he loved them because he never told them that and now they were gone and he would never be able to say it.

He would give anything and everything to go back. Why couldn’t he go back? Why weren’t the equations working? Why weren’t his powers working? Why did the old man always have to be right?

Darkness. There was light, but there was so much more darkness, and it terrified him. It was too dark, the flashlight was flickering out, dying. He collapsed to the ground, curling into himself. Sobbing, crying out to his family until his voice was hoarse. He hated this. He hated this, he was alone, he was more scared than he would like to admit, and he just wanted a friend.

“Delores,” his voice weak and weary and whispering, “can I sleep with you tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudo or comment!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at nevermore-plutonianshore!


	3. When thy little heart doth wake

“Can’t sleep either?” Vanya asked her brother as he shuffled into the kitchen. It was some time past midnight, that time when it wasn’t night anymore but not really morning either, not that she was keeping track. She’d been up for a few hours; she’d tried writing, looking over the music for her next concert, and she’d tried reading some books off of Dad’s bookshelf. None of it worked. 

“No.” He made a beeline to the coffee machine. If he couldn’t sleep, he may as well be fully awake. 

“Want to talk about it?” She tried offering. She missed when they were kids; everything was easier, including talking to one another. Now Five was so closed off, so distant. She couldn’t blame him, of course, she couldn’t imagine spending forty-five years alone like that. It had to do something to a person. She supposed that she closed herself off too. Nothing was easy now. 

“Do you?” He retorted, but it lacked any real edge. It was just a byproduct of his tiredness, and a leftover of his attempts to push everyone else away. Old habits die hard, Vanya knew that. 

She also knew that the question was rhetorical, but she responded anyway, “it was too dark.” Five’s eyes softened in that moment, he knew instantly what weight those words held. 

“I’m sorry.” She thought of when they were 11 and she went to his room in the middle of the night and slept in his bed. That boy was gone now, and yet his face was the one she was looking at right now.

“It’s nothing. I’m too old to have nightmares anyway.” It was embarrassing still being afraid of the dark as an adult. None of them were really adults though; they grew old, but they never grew up. 

“Bullshit. You’re never too old to have nightmares.” No matter how young his face looked, she could all his years in his eyes at that moment. His shoulders sagged like he held the weight of the world. So that’s why he was up.

“Five, are you okay? You know I’m here for you.” She reached her arm out in an attempt to comfort him. Now was her chance to return the favor from all those years ago. 

“I’m fine.” He turned around and grabbed his mug out from under the coffee machine since it had finished brewing. He took a sip and looked back at her.

“Five, please, talk to me.” She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t notice the way he closed his eyes a little too tight, or the way his breath hitched a little.

“It’s fine—” He began before he was cut off.

“Five.” She begged him. He just continued to drink his coffee, trying to avoid the conversation. A long silence took over the kitchen; the tension could be cut with a knife, it was so thick. He looked back into the mug, which Vanya took as a sign that he had finished. She was going to try asking him again, but this time he spoke—

“It was too dark,” he repeated her reason from earlier, “I would close my eyes and see you all, just to open them and remember you were gone.” 

Her mouth formed an “o” shape, she couldn’t even begin to fathom what that must’ve felt like. “Five. I’m here for you, you know that.” She was here. 

He looked into her eyes, like he was searching for something. She wonders if he found it, because he looked away not too long after. 

“Do you remember when we were kids? You’d used to sneak into mine or Ben’s rooms in the night.” He continued without waiting for her to respond, he knew she remembered. “There were nights when I couldn’t sleep either, as a kid, and I would wait to listen if I could hear you up. That way I wouldn’t be alone either,” a sad smile made it’s way onto his face, “In the apocalypse, I used to sit up waiting to hear you up. I never found your body, or Ben’s. I thought, maybe, just maybe, you survived. I learnt what happened to Ben from your book, but I never knew about you. So I would wait. I waited for years before I gave up hope.” His voice shook a little as he spook, years of repressed emotions building up inside of him. Vanya wanted to go and wrap him in her arms, but she was frozen where she stood. 

She was silent, what could she say to comfort him, to help him? “I used to wait too. I would stay up at night, make you your sandwiches and turn on the porch lights. So you could find your way home to us. I missed you so much, and after Ben died, I had no one. When I would wake up, instead of going to someone’s room, I would go sit in front of your portrait. It was the closest I had to sitting up with you again.” Those nights felt so long ago and so recent at the same time. 

Five stared at her, taking it in. “I’m back now,” a reminder to both her and himself, “I’m here. And it’s going to stay that way.” Neither of them moved from where they stood, both too unsure of how to reconnect after so long. But they both knew what the other felt at that moment: safe. They were home, and safe, and together. They could be a family again after so long apart. That was more than enough for the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudo or comment!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at nevermore-plutonianshore!


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